


Drive Me Crazy

by Satine86



Category: Sailor Moon - All Media Types
Genre: Community: shitennou_ai, F/M, Mild Language, Romantic Comedy, Shitennou, Shitennou Forums Ficathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rohini Agnihotri was invited to her father’s wedding, she thought her life couldn’t get any worse. Now it turns out she’s stuck in a romantic comedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drive Me Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Written the shitennou forums 10th anniversary ficathon. Theme chosen was "Literary Quote": I hate you, but I still I miss you, and a part of me still loves you. - Rudy Francisco. 
> 
> Zipfile of all fics and the list of themes can be found on the [Shitennou Forums](http://forums.shitennou.com/index.php)

The car sputtered to a stop, ending with a loud CLANG as soon as she threw it into park. Rohini rested her head on the steering wheel and groaned.

She didn't know much about cars, never had the need, but she knew enough to realize both things were probably very bad. She glanced around, hoping to find another vehicle or even a house, but all she saw for miles around were endless rows of grapevines. Her GPS alerted her to the fact she was nowhere near her destination.

It was just her luck to get stranded in the middle of wine country. She cast a spiteful glare toward a bunch of grapes as if they had caused her car to fail. Pursing her lips, she unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the car – slamming the door with a little more force than strictly necessary.

Looking over her six-month old Mercedes, she decided that this was absolutely her father's fault. Not only had he sprung his wedding on her short notice, he had picked a vineyard in Napa Valley as the venue. Why couldn't he have eloped like the rest of his middle aged corporate friends taking on trophy wives? Yanking out her cell phone she dialed AAA for a tow, cursing her luck and her father the entire time.

Fortunately for her the wait wasn't long, and soon she saw a big tow truck rumbling down the road. The driver was a brute, strong armed, and broad shouldered. His wavy brown hair was tied at the nape of his neck, and a day old beard covered a strong jaw and chin.

“Hello, Miss Agnihotri, I'm Nick Monroe.” His hand—perpetually stained with motor oil—seemed to swallow hers when he shook it.

“Nice ride.” He turned and gave the car an appreciative whistle. “So, you're here for the wedding, right?”

“Yes... how did you know that?” She eyed him carefully, but his nut brown eyes were kind, laughing as he turned to look at her again.

“My girlfriend is the chef out at the resort, it's all she's talked about for days.” He laughed and stuck his hands in the pockets of his coveralls. “It sounds pretty swanky up there, everything has been really hectic lately.”

“I'm not surprised.” She rolled her eyes, she didn't know her soon-to-be step-mother all that well, but she wasn't surprised she had turned into a bridezilla. Honestly the woman reminded her of every stuck-up snob she had loathed in private school and university.

“Alright, let's get this baby back to the shop and have a look at, hm?” He offered her a friendly smile, and she felt marginally better.

 

**

She was halfway through her third bag of peanut M&Ms, foot jostling in time with the detergent jingle playing on the tiny tv in the corner, when Nick walked into the office.

“Well,” he started to say and Rohini jumped up from her chair.

“Can you fix it today?”

“No.”

She fought the urge to scream. “How soon?”

“I have to order a part, and deal with some minor repairs. Probably two days?”

“Okay,” Rohini said, nodding to herself. “I can deal with two days.” She tilted her head back and emptied the rest of the M&Ms into her mouth. Chewing, she looked around and swallowed. “Is there a place I can rent a car?”

“Nah, the last place is about thirty miles south of here.”

“I suppose there isn't a taxi service to get me out to the resort for the wedding, hm?”

Nick laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “No, ma'am. But I can drive you if you'd like?”

“No, you're staying here and doing whatever it is you need to do to ensure my car is ready to drive back to LA as soon as this circus is over with, do you understand?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He nodded, lips twitching. “If you don't mind my asking? How much candy have you had?”

Only then did she realize she was pacing, her fingers tapping erratically against her hip. She stopped and looked at him, frowning. “I was hungry.”

“Just relax, it's not a problem to dive you out. Like I said my girlfriend's the chef, I make the trip a lot.”

“That, is actually really kind of you. But I don't want to impose; I'm sure you have other things to do. I will just call my father. I'm sure there's someone who can come out to get me.”

“Okay, suit yourself.” He shrugged and disappeared back into the shop.

Rohini took in a deep breath, held it until the count of five, then let it out slowly. Pulling her cell phone out of her purse, she slowly scrolled through the contacts until she found her father.

The other line rang three times before he picked up. “Hi, Dad. Um, my car broke down.” She paused. “No, it's fine. I just need someone to pick me up.”

 

**

 

She was standing outside the garage, her purse slung over her shoulder and her small suitcase resting next to her. Coming down from her sugar high, and her annoyance ebbing away with the knowledge it would all be over in a couple days, she took the time to enjoy the weather.

It was a perfect summer day, the sun shining but with a breeze to keep it from getting overly hot. There were a few fluffy clouds in the sky, and the air was fresh—a big difference from LA.

However, her burgeoning good mood was squashed the moment she saw the '65 Austin-Healey 3000 in the signature “Healey Blue.” The fact she knew any of this information pissed her off, almost as much as the fact it was rolling to a stop in front of her, the wheels crunching the gravel.

Rohini stalked up to the passenger side door, luckily the top was down and she was able to fully glare at the moron now grinning at her.

“You,” she accused.

“Me,” he mocked her tone, grinning wider. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his wind tousled hair, and rested one arm over the back of the seat. “Just your knight in shining armor.”

“Screw you, Justin.”

“Haven't you already done that? Though if you want to for old time's sake...?”

“I would rather crawl to the wedding on my stomach.”

“So you don't want a ride? Well, okay then.” He pushed down his sunglasses, reaching forward to turn the key in the ignition.

Rohini wrinkled her nose. “You're an asshole.”

“I know this is awkward alright? But I'm the last to arrive. You don't have to like it; it just is.” He finally got out of the vehicle, and without any word from her, went to grab her rolling suitcase. He nestled in the tiny trunk next to his bag.

Letting out a breath through her nose, she realized she really had to no choice in the matter if she wanted to make it in time for the rehearsal, and climbed into the car. It shifted, dipping slightly when he got in after her.

The engine whirred to life as they rolled away from the shop. It was only a few minutes later they were off the gravel path, and back on the asphalt of the main road.

“I'm surprised my father invited you.”

“Hard to erase a six year relationship.”

“You didn't seem to have a problem with that,” she muttered to herself.

“I'm sorry?” He glanced at her quickly before turning his attention back to the road.

“Nothing. Alright, so dad invited you because of history. That's generous of him.”

Justin shifted gears, edging around a tourist who'd stopped in the middle of the road to take photos. “I also drafted a prenup for him,” he said casually.

“Really?” Now that surprised her, she wasn't sure her father had thought that far ahead. Of course, she wasn't really sure he had thought at all.

“Yeah, Staci insisted on it.”

Rohini's eyes went wide and she turned in her seat to look at his profile. “You're kidding!”

“She's not nearly as bad as you might think. She's a trust fund baby, wants to keep it all separate. I really do think she loves your dad, and he her.”

“Oh, I'm sure he loves the fact she's half his age.” She settled back in her sit, crossing her arms.

“Fifteen years younger. That's pretty tame compared to some of the bigwigs at his office.”

They lapsed into silence as the car skirted around the vineyards, winding up the road to their destination. It was entirely familiar to Rohini, and disgustingly comfortable. She loathed it. Rohini sank a bit lower in her sit, crossed her arms a bit tighter.

“How've you been, Ni?” His voice was gentle, honest, and the nickname was a caress.

“You don't get to call me that anymore.”

“Alright: How have you been, Rohini?” Even though his glasses were down and she couldn't see anything besides herself in the reflective tint, she knew he'd rolled his pale blue eyes at her. “Your dad said you got the promotion? Finally get that corner office?”

“Yeah, I did. Things have been going really well lately.” At least professionally, but he didn't need to know about her personal life, or lack thereof. “What about you? Made partner yet?”

“Have a review in a couple weeks, I think they'll offer.” He smiled at her. Not his shit-eating-I'm-a-charming-lawyer smile. Not his super-polite-gotta-play-nice-for-high-society smile. But the toothy, carefree grin he used for her and her alone; the one that always – always – made her heart flutter. Traitorous organ that it was.

Still she was happy for him, proud even. He was the youngest attorney at the firm, and he'd made a name for himself for being brash and unapologetically earnest.

“Well, I suppose a congratulations is in order?”

“Not quite yet for me, but for you? Definitely.” He smiled again and she was tempted to pout. Again they were quiet, and again Justin was the one to break it.

“So,” he drug out the word. “Did you really have problems getting away from work, or did you just ignore your dad until the last possible minute so you could pretend it was all his fault for not telling you sooner?”

She tried not to glower at him. “I was working: we just landed a large client, and I was assigned as lead of the PR team,” she huffed.

“Don't lie to me.”

“I'm not lying!”

“I know you, Ni, I can tell when you lie.” He smirked at her. “You have this horrible little tell when you lie, you squint your left eye just a bit.”

“Fine, whatever. Maybe you're right? Not all of us are professional liars.”

“Oh, ouch. Not even an hour together and already the bottom feeding lawyer jokes. This will be a fun weekend.”

 

**

 

The rest of the car ride had been spent in strained silence, and had Justin made no effort to end it. She wasn't sure if she had been pleased or upset by that.

Arriving at the resort they had been greeted by her father and soon-to-be step-mother. Staci Phillips was an attractive woman, just barely forty; she was tall and thin, her chestnut brown hair perfectly straight and well groomed, falling to her shoulders.

She had hugged Rohini and Justin warmly, before ushering them inside so they could change before the rehearsal dinner – which had been uneventful. The next day was spent getting ready and helping the bride – Rohini being one of the few Staci “felt comfortable with” that knew how to tie a sari, which the bride had insisted on wearing to “honor her husband's culture.” Rohini had tried not to roll her eyes too hard.

Now, after the ceremony, Rohini stood in the large banquet hall which was done up bright oranges and golds, flower boughs strung along the ceiling, blending parts of Western and Indian culture.

Standing near the bar she plucked at an invisible piece of lint on the front of her sari. She was pleased with it; the under skirt and capped sleeve blouse both a solid burgundy, the pleats of the sari matching the rich shade, with a gold brocade patterning, the fabric sheer. The pallu draped over her left shoulder a vibrant purple, embroidered with glittering crystals and gems.

Her thick hair shined under the soft lights of the room, the front pulled back, a heavy braid running down her back. She accepted a glass of white wine from the bartender.

She had to admit everything was beautiful, and oddly enough she had discovered that her father was being far more neurotic about the whole ordeal than Staci was. She made her way toward the tables in the center of the room, looking for her name card.

Finally locating where she was to sit for the night, she sat down carefully and prayed Justin wasn't assigned to the table as well.

And he hadn't been, though he was just one table over, on the opposite side, which gave her a perfect view of him while he talked with some of her father's colleagues. Looking far too handsome in an immaculate tuxedo.

The meal itself had been delicious, and not too tedious – she spent most of the time talking with one of her cousins, and Staci's fifteen year old niece. Before dessert was brought out her father and Staci had moved to the front of the hall for a toast.

Rohini downed the rest of her wine and prepared for the disgustingly sweet words the couple had no doubt prepared.

They thanked everyone for making it out for the wedding, and their wonderfully kind words and support. Staci had gushed about how happy she was, and what a dream wedding it had been. Her father had smiled and pressed a kiss against his wife's temple.

Then it was his turn to speak. “I just want to thank Staci for being such a good sport, I know she never wanted a big wedding, but I'm so happy she allowed me to have a real wedding.”

At his words, Rohini felt a surge of emotions: anger, disgust, disappointment to name a few. But the overwhelming feeling was hurt. She shoved her chair back, the legs scraping against the floor, and fled the hall quickly.

As she escaped outside to a small side patio, she was aware of some murmured discourse from the guests, but she didn't really care.

She didn't want to cry, to ruin the dark kohl lining her eyes in sharp points, but hot tears pricked her eyes whether she liked it or not. The door behind her opened and shut quietly, soft footfalls sounding behind her.

“Go away, Justin.” She kept her back turned so he wouldn't see her cry, but shouldn't keep her voice from shaking.

“I just want to see if you're okay? I just... he shouldn't have said that.”

She whirled around to face him; he swam in her vision as tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill. She pressed a hand to cheek, fighting to keep her emotions in check.

“No, he shouldn’t' have! My parents eloped because neither of them wanted a big Hindu wedding. It upset both their families, but they didn't care. They did what they wanted because they loved each other. Now here he is, acting like none of that happened. Like it didn't matter. Like my mother didn't matter.” Finally the tears spilled over, burning her cheeks.

He stepped closer to her, wrapping her in a tight hug. Rohini didn't care about their past in that moment, she wanted the comfort he was offering, and she clung to him tightly. Her shoulders shook as she cried out her anger and pain.

When felt she'd cried enough she pulled back, taking in deep breaths. Justin pulled the folded handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to her. She carefully dabbed at her face, trying not to further ruin her makeup.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I will be. Thank you.” She wiped her nose. “You should go back inside.”

“I'm not just going to leave, why don't you let me walk you to your room?” He moved as if to place a hand on her hip, something he had done countless times in the past. But it was too imitate now, too much, and she took a step back.

“No, just go back to the party. I'm fine.” She waved him off.

“Look,” he stopped and took a deep breath, agitatedly running a hand through his hair. “I know you don't want to admit it or think about it, Ni, but I care about you. I always have and I always will.”

“Right, you cared about me so much you decided to screw around. Glad you care. Can't imagine what you would've done if you didn't.” She snorted loudly, gripping the handkerchief tightly, wringing it.

“What?” he hissed.

“Don't play dumb, Justin. You knew why I broke things off, why I barely spoke to you. Did you honestly think I wouldn't find out eventually?” She opened her arms wide, shrugging. “You were working later hours than ever before, you were erratic, sneaking off and not telling me where. Wiring money strange places.”

“Rohini--” He took a step toward her and she shoved him away

“NO! I'm not proud, but it wasn't hard to check the transactions. Thousands of dollars, Justin. And then I saw you having lunch with her. So don't even pretend.”

He took a deep breath, arms akimbo, and looked up to the sky, Adam's Apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. Finally he lowered his gaze to hers, face pinched, and if she didn't know better, she would've said he looked as if he could cry.

“You ended it because you thought I was cheating?” He looked away, nodding slowly. “Huh,” he laughed bitterly.

“You're going to tell me you weren’t?” she challenged, hands on her hips.

“Jesus Christ, Ni! NO!” He turned away from her and kicked one of the decorative flower pots lining the patio. The thing toppled over, dirt and plant roots spilling across the bricks. He rubbed his face before turning back to her.

“I was going to propose. The lady you saw me with? She's a travel agent; I was going to take you to Uttarakhand because you always talked about going but never made the time.” He looked away from her, shoulders sagging. “I wanted to propose when we got to the Valley of Flowers National Park. It was going to be beautiful, all the flowers blooming; just really serene and perfect.”

“I love you, Rohini.” He met her eyes again. “I always have. I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't ever want to hurt you.”

She had remained perfectly still the entire time he spoke, one hand clapped over her mouth. The moment he stopped she took in a deep breath and flung herself at him, her arms winding around his neck, her body crushed against his. He pulled her close as she buried her fingers into his hair, yanking his mouth to hers.

When they finally broke apart, Justin leaned his forehead against hers. “I missed you,” he whispered.

“Ask me.”

“Ask you?” He pulled back enough to look at her. “You want me to ask if you'll marry me?”

“Yes.” She grinned at him.

“Was that in response to the marriage thing?” He quirked a brow.

“Yes,” she repeated, laughing at his look of utter confusion.

“You'll marry me?”

“I will.” He laughed then, picking her up and swinging her around the patio.

“Justin?” she asked once he put down again.

“Yeah?”

“I think you should walk me to my room now.”


End file.
